The Danger of a White Story

I was born in 1980 in Lake Forest, Illinois to wonderful parents. My dad is Irish and Welsh and my mom is Guatemalan. Growing up, I spent time with both sides of my family, spoke in English and Spanish, painted with my Gramma and played cards with my Mamita. I loved both sides of my family and they loved me.

But the town I grew up in didn’t reflect me or my family as a whole.

I grew up in a town where the population was 98.6% white. People around me lived in mansions, drove shiny, new cars, and wore expensive clothes but I didn’t. Books were the one place where I felt like enough. I could walk into the library and check out as many books as I wanted and they were the same books the other kids were reading. The library leveled the playing field for me. At the same time, It was years and years before the We Need Diverse Books campaign so I read books by Judy Blume, Beverly Cleary, and Roald Dahl. I didn’t see my Latinx heritage represented in books I read.

I talked about my story and how books saved me on the Wild Cozy Truth podcast with Renee Powers this week. I'm so thankful for all the books I had access to growing up. But even though connecting with books helped me to become who I am today, they still contributed to a fractured identity for me.

This is the danger of a white story.

I hope by now everyone has seen Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's Ted Talk The Danger of a Single Story. If you haven't, please go watch it. I've blogged about it before and how we have to be conscious of how harmful it can be to assume things. Chimamanda points out that it’s too easy to assume things about a large group of people from just one experience or story with one person.

I grew up with a white story all around me. In the community I lived in, in the books I read, in the media I consumed. It’s not shock that I ended up not identifying with my Latina side. It wasn’t until We Need Diverse Books that I started to unravel years and years of being ashamed of being Latina. I spent a month blogging about this very topic. It was a really hard month as I faced things I wasn’t proud of and forced myself to be introspective.

There’s a danger in a white story.

I’m not alone. I’ve heard of students who deny their Latinx identity and attempt to disassociate with their ethnicity. I’ve had a student tell me she wished she had a white girl’s name like mine. I’ve seen my own son raise his hands in excitement that his skin is lighter than his brother’s when we talked about the injustices people might face because of their skin color.

This danger of a white story is why we need to continue to work for diversity in books and other media. We have come along way since the 80’s when I grew up but we still have work to do.

Chad Everett wrote a piece called There Is No Diverse Book where he talks about how we have to examine our use of the word "diverse". He points out that no one book can be diverse. The very definition of diversity implies that there have to be a variety in a range of different things. One book might have a diverse cast of characters. A group of books might represent people from different ethnicities. But the word diverse does not mean non-white.

Chad shares how readers can move along a continuum in terms of what they read. He cites Dr. Rudine Sims-Bishops’ work on the importance of access to books that are Mirrors, Windows, and Sliding glass doors (I mention her work in the podcast but failed to cite her and I apologize for this.). He also points out that while a reader can move along the continuum, it’s important to read widely on those points on the continuum. Reading one book with characters of a certain race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, ability, etc., is not enough. That’s the danger of a single story.

Chad also explains, "The word diverse as it is currently used centers heteronormative whiteness as the default." There are a lot of reasons for why whiteness is the default that I don’t have to outline here. It’s imperative that we - as readers, educators, parents, humans - reflect on what we consider the default as we grow the representation of diversity in books and in the books we share with others.

It’s the danger of a white story.

I know all too well what it feels like to live in a white story, to exist thinking that white is the norm. I still struggle with not feeling like enough. I wonder why I’m not included. I question whether my voice matters. And not only that, I find myself dealing with these thoughts in different spaces. I don’t feel like I fit in anywhere.

We have to stop defaulting to white as the norm. Each reader deserves to see themselves in the books they read and they deserve the opportunity to read widely beyond themselves.

In this video interview with Dr. Rudine Sims-Bishop, specifically when she talks about cultural authenticity, she shares ideas for how to look critically at texts we read and share. I urge you to take some time to think about the books you are reading and other media you are consuming and look for diversity in the range of texts you read.

Be aware of the danger of a white story. 

Using My Voice: Standing Up and Speaking Out Even When It's Hard

Since April 2014, when the We Need Diverse Books campaign became a thing, I’ve paid attention more and more to representations of diversity of all kinds in books and other media. It might sound strange, but I didn’t realize how much I was missing diversity in what I was reading and watching on tv and in movies until then. All of a sudden, I saw everything in color instead of grayscale.

It wasn’t until I went to a session on "Finding Diverse Lit for Diverse YA Readers" in support of the We Need Diverse Books campaign led by Cindy Minnich and Sarah Anderson at Nerdcamp in July of 2014 that I realized how much I needed WNDB myself. I wrote about the experience here, how I felt physically ill because I wasn’t sure how the conversation was going to go and how overwhelmed I was to be in a room of people who understood.

To be honest, the We Need Diverse Books campaign helped me look more closely at my own identity. I spent March of 2015 blogging everyday and realizing how important it is for me to tell my story. If you’re interested in reading about my exploration of my identity, this post links to all my posts from that month.  

Since then, I’ve used my voice more and more to speak out about the importance of diversity in books and other media and about the importance of having discussions about race and culture. I’m still getting used to this voice of mine, still learning to trusting it and strengthening my message.

I put it to the test recently when I spoke out against something very important to me. I wish I could be more specific but at this point, I’m choosing not to call attention to the issue and instead, share what it felt like to use my voice.

I went through a range of emotions and as I processed the whole situation, I found that Tracy Chapman’s self-titled album (that I loved back in the 90's) helped me understand what I was feeling. In listening to Tracy’s lyrics, I didn’t feel so alone and I found strength to persevere.

Speaking out and asking people to look more closely at themselves and to reflect on their cultural competence was hard. It meant taking a risk. Being vulnerable. Facing the unknown. But I did it anyway. Here’s a glimpse of what I felt.

Talkin' Bout a Revolution

Don't you know

They're talkin' 'bout a revolution

It sounds like a whisper

Poor people gonna rise up

And get their share

Poor people gonna rise up

And take what's theirs

When I found out about the situation that was happening, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe it. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I realized I needed to speak out. It was time for me to say something. The strength to speak out started to grow.

Fast Car

You got a fast car

Is it fast enough so we can fly away

We gotta make a decision

Leave tonight or live and die this way

I had options. I could let it go and not express my opinion. That would be easiest. Running away was an option too. I could just move. That would be hard to do but it sounded great, just leave everything behind and forget the people who couldn’t see my point. But at the same time, I knew it was time to use my voice. Because if I didn't at least try, of course nothing would change.

Across the Lines

Across the lines

Who would dare to go

Under the bridge

Over the tracks

That separates whites from blacks

Choose sides

Run for your life

Tonight the riots begin

On the back streets of America

They kill the dream of America

I made a choice. I decided to stand up. I wasn’t sure if anyone else was speaking up, sharing their voice, their perspective but I was going to and I was ready. I felt too strongly to not say anything, ignoring it wasn't an option, and running away from the problem wasn't going to work either.

This is where it became real though. I wasn’t sure what the consequences of standing up and speaking out would be. I could imagine, and I did imagine, all sorts of scenarios. It was scary. But I was determined to do it anyway.

Behind the Wall

Last night I heard the screaming

Loud voices behind the wall

Another sleepless night for me

It won't do no good to call

The police always come late

If they come at all

The reality: No one heard me. No one understood my point. No one saw my perspective. Or if they did, no one came to my side. No one stood by me. I was in it alone.

Baby Can I Hold You

But you can say baby

Baby can I hold you tonight

Maybe if I told you the right words

At the right time you'd be mine

It was hard to keep going when I felt alone and invisible. I hoped for someone to see me so I would feel real again. Anyone. And then there was someone who saw me. Another person was also appalled by the situation. Just when it felt like I didn’t exist, one person saw me. And if one person could see me, it was enough to keep going.

Mountains o' Things

Oh they tell me

There's still time to save my soul

They tell me

Renounce all

Renounce all those material things you gained by

Exploiting other human beings

I thought of all the things I would give up. All the things I thought were important. I wouldn’t worry about anything else if they could just see how seriously problematic this one thing was.

Nothing else mattered.

She's Got Her Ticket

She's got her ticket

I think she gonna use it

I think she going to fly away

No one should try and stop her

Persuade her with their power

She says that her mind is made up

Why not leave why not

Go away

Too much hatred

Corruption and greed

Give your life

And invariably they leave you with

Nothing

I was willing to give up so much but still, no one was listening, I wasn’t getting anywhere. I was done. Spent. Exhausted. Emotionally hollow. I needed a break. I shut down, closed myself off, slept.

Why?

Love is hate

War is peace

No is yes

And we're all free

When I woke up, I was mad. None of it made sense. How could people pretend to care about some things when they didn’t about this? Everyone was a hypocrite. Every smile fake. Every promise empty. I lost trust in a lot of people.

For My Lover

And everybody thinks

That I'm the fool

But they don't get

Any love from you

The things we won't do for love

I'd climb a mountain if I had to

And risk my life so I could have you

You, you, you...

I wish I didn't, but I still cared. Was I overreacting? Making a mountain out of a molehill? No one understood. I was weary and not sure who to trust but I was determined to keep going, knowing that I needed to advocate for what I felt was right.

If Not Now...

If not now then when

If now today then

Why make your promises

A love declared for days to come

Is as good as none

Somehow, I felt hope. I had been through so many emotions and even after it all, I believed change had to happen. I tried again. My resolve was deeper than ever and I was steadfast. I could stay the course.

For You

There're no words to say

No words to convey

This feeling inside I have for you

Deep in my heart

Save from the guards

Of intellect and reason

Leaving me at a loss

For words to express my feelings

Deep in my heart

Look at me losing control

Thinking I had a hold

But with feelings this strong

I'm no longer the master

Of my emotions

Just when I thought I had felt every emotion possible...I got to the point where someone else saw me. My heart was buoyed up by their belief. After all this time, someone saw me and my perspective. My emotions were all over the place. It was a sense of gratitude and knowing that it was worth it because I was able to encourage one person to think more carefully about how serious the situation was.

But at the same time I put so much energy into making a difference and I didn’t feel like I had gotten very far. In some ways, I felt like a ghost. As much as I tried to get people to see me and pleaded for them to listen, so many didn’t. Now I’m at the point where I have to decide if I keep trying. Do I keep looking for others who can see me? Or since my voice has been stifled and silenced time and time again, do I give up? Is it worth it to go on?

*****

Standing up and speaking out was not easy. It was scary and isolating.

It’s emotionally draining to want to impact change so badly and not be able to make it happen. I’ve realized that I have to expand my timeline, reassess the steps it's going to take, and figure out how to reinvigorate my belief that change can happen. Even though I want to move mountains, I have to accept that sometimes a teeny shift in the right direction is all I’m going to get.

If this had happened back in 2014 before I had started to unpack my own identity and to look critically at how people are represented in books and the media around me, I’m not sure I would have felt the need to speak up. I hope I would have taken issue with the situation but I can’t say for certain that I would have seen how important it was to bring attention to it as I did.

I’m thankful for experiences that have helped me look more critically at books and media and for people who have helped me find my voice. I hope that by sharing my story others will look more closely at their lives and find their voice to speak out and stand up when they have the chance. I can’t promise it will be easy but I do know it will be worth it.

JOIN: Celebrating Literary Agents and Writing Lessons Learned

Every Saturday, join me as I CELEBRATE This Week 

with Ruth Ayres from Discover. Play. Build.

This week I have very big news to share! It's super exciting...I have a literary agent! I queried for about two years, which means I sent samples of my novel in a letter to agents who might be interested in representing me. And then Danielle Smith from Lupine Grove Creative offered to represent me. After notifying other agents who had my work and waiting to hear back from them, I accepted Danielle's offer. Hooray!

This is the first time I've ever had an agent and it's so fun. A few people have asked me what this means exactly...which was good because I forgot that not everyone knows what it means to have an agent in the book world. Basically, now that I'm working with Danielle, she'll pitch my manuscripts to publishers and editors who'll decide if they want to make any of them into books. I've written young adult novels and picture books, but no, I don't illustrate my own work. A publisher would choose an illustrator to create the artwork to go along with my text. And of course, all this will probably take a long time...but I'll let you know when I have more news to share! For now, check out the Lupine Grove website and see if you can find me on the Authors page. (Yay!)

I'm completely overjoyed. This is a big step but also one little step on my journey towards being published. So while I'm celebrating having signed with an agent, I'm also celebrating all the work it's taken to get here. I've written and revised, shared and considered feedback, revised and revised again. And all along the way, through the rejections and doubt, I surrounded myself with supportive friends and family, and I learned that I can keep going - sure, it might mean a good cry at Starbucks and taking a few days to muster up the courage to face revisions - but I know more about myself as a writer today then I did when I started seriously writing over five years ago. 

Thinking about your life as a writer, 

what can you celebrate in terms of what 

you've learned about yourself from actively writing? 

I'm excited to celebrate with you! 

Thanks for stopping in to celebrate with me!

JOIN: Celebrate This Week - This Is Your Life

Every Saturday, join me as I CELEBRATE This Week 

with Ruth Ayres from Discover. Play. Build.

In the 50's, there was a show called This is Your Life. They would chose a celebrity and surprise them with people who had influenced their life.

I only know the show This Is Your Life from watching Sesame Street when I was little. Here's an example of their version of This Is Your Life for the character Forgetful Jones.

Here's a clip from when Dick Clark was on the show in 1959! It's so fun to watch and gets me choked up. 

 

This Is Your Life celebrates the power of connection between people. Seeing others and honoring the miracle in each of us contributes to the dents we make in the universe. I've heard these people referred to as balcony people and marigolds. Whatever we call them, they see us. And it makes all the difference.

Today I'm celebrating one such person. Ms. Bacigalupi - now Mrs. Zimmerman - was my freshman and sophomore high school English teacher. I got to have coffee with her over spring break. In my head, it felt like a mini-This Is Your Life. We talked about books and writing and teaching and it was so great to see her, especially considering books and writing and teaching is my life now.

If they ever decide to bring back the show This Is Your Life and for some crazy reason bring me on the show, there would be tons of people who have believed in me over the years. I'm so so so lucky. Maybe there are people who have influenced and believed in you!

What are you celebrating this week? 

Who might you celebrate? 

THIS is your life, so celebrate!

I've got (virtual) confetti at the ready. 

Thanks for stopping in to explore with me!

Be Present - #mystoryishere

Be Present

Everyone is busy these days. Busy busy busy. So much to do. So little time. Continual pressure to get it all done is the new normal. And though we hate being stretched too thin, we pride ourselves on how important we are. After all, people want things from us, need us, couldn't do it without us. If everyone is busy but you aren't, then you must be a nobody.

Well, I've got something to say about that. Being busy isn't so cool after all. 

I've been busy. 

I've been tricked into thinking busy is where it's at. 

I've been burnt out on being busy. 

Being busy means "having a great deal to do". 

Working, hard at work, occupied.

Stop being busy. 

Start being aware of all you get to experience in life. 

Being present means "being in a particular place". 

Here, near, available. 

We are all works in progress. Slowing down to be present allows us to see who we are, what we love, and ultimately where it's best to spend our energy. 

Be present. Explore your story.  

When we write, we take a snapshot of a snippet in time. We stop being so damn occupied and instead open ourselves up to the power of being present and the potential to be great. Screw being busy, revel in each and every moment.

Start here. Put pen to paper or fingers to keys. Write about the here and now. Write about what is near to your heart. Write about all that is available to you in this moment. Appreciate the people, places, sounds, smells, joy all around you. Celebrate everything that gives you energy. Let your hopes and dreams tumble out onto the page or screen. 

I'd love to read what you've noticed in this fine moment! Whether it's what you've written or how you feel about having written or something else entirely, comments are welcome! Thanks for stopping by to explore your story with me!

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This post is part of a 7-Day Intentional Blogging Challenge hosted by Jeff Goins. For more information and to see what others are writing, 
check out the invitation and Facebook page. 

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